Place Where the Clowns Go
by BluePrint
Summary: Er, Draco woke up in a strange room and met with a strange lady in burgundy. Does that say much? If I tell you more that'll give away too much. It's soaked with details, that I can tell you. And adjectives and er, adverbs ... very descriptive. *smiles*


A/N: Hey! This is a little shorty thingy that I wrote when I was having an idea the other day. (PG for _ONE_ measly harmless little swearword) What idea was it? I have no idea … … … *stares* … okaaayyy … I hope you like adjective/adverb/detail soaked fics because that's what this is … ENJOY!  
DISCLAIMER-THINGAMAJIG: I don't own Harry Potter and characters. They belong to Ms. J.K. Rowling.

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Draco Malfoy Gets Kidnapped

            He woke up, his body aching all over. He sat up and stared all around him. _Oh, my God! This place looks SO cheap!_ That was the first thought he got when he saw what he saw: cheap curtains (burnt at the hems) hanging from unwashed windows, mouldy-looking couches with fading stars on them, a stained carpet covering the floor and a chipped coffee table that had paper shoved beneath one of its broken legs. The wallpaper of the room was peeling and it looked very … ancient. Draco winced when he saw the wallpaper design: clown wizards. He had always been afraid of clowns. Ever since he was five.

*Flashback (Draco is now five)*

            "Come on, Draco," his mother said to him. "Come and take a picture with the clown," she said smiling stupidly at the grease-painted one they called 'Clown'. How wrong she was to suggest that.

            Draco was at a friend's birthday party. There was a clown there and parents lined up with their children to take pictures of them sitting on the clown's lap. Draco obediently followed his mother while holding her kind hand. He was oblivious to the terror that was about to befall his innocent mind.

            It was Draco's turn. He started walking up to the clown, quite confidently. The clown gave him a wide grin and his eyes twinkled with delight at the young child who walked up to him. Delight … … … or was it … malice?

            "Hello there, kiddo!" the clown said with a tone of enjoyment. "And what will your name be?"

            Draco stopped in front of the clown's feet. He looked up at the big buffoon with the smiling eyes and the orange frizzy hair. 

            "Draco," he said with a tone of spiteful arrogance. "Draco Malfoy." To his surprise, the clown smiled with even more enthusiastic joy. 

            "Draco Malfoy, you say," the clown spat out through his painted face of false amusement. "Well, I'm Frizbo the Clown and we're going to have SOO much fun today!" His cunningly sadistic hands reached down and lifted Draco up onto his lap. Draco managed a weak smile. The clown then said to him in a deep, throaty whisper:

            "I like you a lot," Frizbo the Freak (in Draco's humble opinion) sighed. "You smell good …" He gave Draco a wretched smile that sent a fiery tingle down his spine. Draco, the five year old, imprisoned in the clown's lap, unable to move, his grey eyes wide with fear. Then without warning, the clown breathed on him and the most putrid, obscene and foul smell emanated from within the jester's throat. 

Draco gagged. He tried to speak. To reach out for his mother. To escape the admittedly evil being whose lap he was in.

"Smile for the camera!" a voice said from a distance. It seemed like an eternity before he saw a flash of light. He waited no longer. He jumped down from the clown's lap whom evil his flesh was heir to. He ran to his mother, almost peeing his expansive pants.

For the rest of that dull party, every time Draco's eyes met Frizbo's, the clown mouthed some words to him. Draco didn't understand what he was trying to say and he decided he never wanted to.

*Flashback ends*

            Draco moved his eyes away from the wallpaper. He painfully stood up from where he sat on the floor. A cockroach fell from his satin-smooth hair and skittered away, much to Draco's disgust. He cursed the detestable insect and shuffled his feet towards the windows. He looked outside trying to make out where he was.

            Snow covered the ground thickly. There was a bridge to the left, which arched over an icy still river. In front was an Irish pub and beside it a menagerie. There didn't seem to be any other buildings around. He tried looking for a signboard but didn't see any. There was a 'creak' behind him. He turned and saw the wooden door open. In came a burly man in a cloak.

            "Awake already?" he said in a husky voice. Draco didn't answer. The man had a tray on which were a jug of coffee, a cup and a plate of sandwiches. The man grunted and put the tray down roughly on the coffee table. "You should eat. Going to go a long way afterwards."

            "Where?" Draco asked impatiently curious. "Who are you?"

            "Name's Desky," the man said. "We'll be heading off to your … school in a while. When you're feeling better-"

            "My school?" Draco inquired. "We're walking there?"

            "Er, yes," Desky said nervously. "Is there a-"

            "Where am I?" Draco asked, his eyes burning with rising confusion.

            "You don't need to worry 'bout that, son," Desky said with a tone of finality in his voice. "Are you cold? Need a jacket?"

            "No," Draco said mutinously. "I'm fine."

            "Are you sure? It's kin-"

            "I said I'm FINE!"

            "All right, then … but you wanna lose that tone of arrogance, boy!" With that, Desky turned and left before Draco could ask anymore. He looked at the food and suddenly realized he was very hungry. He sat down on a mouldy chair and looked suspiciously at the food. He felt for his wand. It wasn't there. 

            "Oh, well," Draco muttered and began eating, refraining from returning the malicious gazes from the clowns on the wallpaper.

***

            He fell asleep on one of the couches. When he woke, he saw it was already dark outside. The aches he had earlier were all gone. He sat up on the couch with his head in his hands, wondering how he had gotten here and how long it would take for his father to find him. He didn't doubt that his father would put out a search party for him. It was a while before he realized there was someone in the room with him. He looked up.

            "Draco …"

            "Who are you?" Draco said as his brow furrowed.

            "Tell me, Draco … do you like clowns?" the lady in wine-coloured robes asked.

            "How do you know my name?" Draco asked.

            "Answer me, Draco, …" she said with a smile.

            "No."

            "No? No, you will not answer me or-"

            "No, I don't like clowns," he said interrupting her. She smiled. Everything about her was burgundy coloured. Her hair, her eyes, her nails, her shoes and the necklace she wore. The necklace looked strikingly familiar. He stared at it trying to place where he had seen it before.

            "I see you like my necklace, Draco …" she said wispily. 

            "It looks familiar … Do I know you?"

            She smiled her burgundy lips. "No, you don't, Draco. And thank God you don't."

            "Why? So my father won't be able to find you once I escape?"

            "Escape?" she laughed. "A bit confident, aren't you?"

            "Of course. Why shouldn't I be?"

            "Ahh … The Malfoy blood still stays the same throughout the years …" Draco looked at her.

            "What do you want from me?"

            "Draco, I have kidnapped you from your boarding school and have brought you far way. I intend for you to tell me something about your father … Lucius …" she said the name with disgust like it killed her to roll it off her tongue.

            "My father?" Draco asked bewildered.

            "Don't worry. This won't take long …" she said as she stood up. Smiling, she placed her icy fingers on Draco's temples. Draco felt the coldness spiral from her fingers and envelope his whole head and then headed down to his heart and to the rest of his body. He shivered as the lady closed her eyes muttering incantations. After saying the incantations, she stood in that position, unmoving, eyes closed. 

            Thirty seconds passed and Draco shook with cold more than ever. His pale face turned a slight shade of blue and his lips were half-frozen. His fingers clutched at his knees tightly. Then the lady opened her eyes and looked down at Draco. She smiled.

            "Thank you," she whispered. With a wave of her wand, she muttered something at Draco. Draco gasped with pain as a flash of heat went through his toes and sprang up his knees entering his torso and swallowing his whole body and finally his head and mind. The sudden change of his body temperature made his brain black out. The last thing he saw before he passed out was the greasy smiles of the clowns around him. 

***

            Draco awoke, his dark green silk pyjamas plastered to his back with cold sweat. He opened his eyes slowly and turned. He saw Hogwarts before him. He tried getting up but his hands and feet were failing on him. He cursed under his breath and let himself slump down on the wet grass. He closed his eyes. Then he heard familiar voices and footsteps coming closer to him. Draco forced his eyes open and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione.

            Harry was the first to notice the limp figure lying on the ground. He stopped in his tracks and Ron and Hermione followed suit. Draco just stared at them with his icy cold grey eyes, devoid of any emotion but hate. He focused on Harry.

            "Potter," he mouthed as a sneer tried to form on his lips. He failed. He was really weak. He closed his eyes and started to shiver and sweat at the same time.

            "It's Malfoy," Ron said. "He looks like shit."

            Hermione glared at Ron.

            Ron ignored her and went on. "Should we help him?" Both of them looked at Harry, waiting for him to give instructions. Nowadays, they always looked at Harry as their leader.

            "Hermione, get Madam Pomfrey," Harry said not taking his eyes off Draco. Hermione nodded and left for the castle. "Ron, come help me." He started walking towards the limp figure.

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Hmm … not much of a story there. Was it descriptive? No? Well, I didn't _exactly_ promise anything, right? Okaaayyy … … … If any of you readers want me to continue, just tell me in your reviews and I'll write more. Amazingly enough, I DO have a plot in my mind. *evil grin*

Harry: *sarcastically* Gasp! You have a PLOT?!  
BluePrint: Yea … for once! *snicker* Gasp! I wrote a DRAMA!  
Harry: Yea … for once! *snicker*  
Frizbo: Heloo!!!  
BluePrint & Harry: AAAHHHH!!!!!!!! IT'S THE EVIL CLOWN FROM HECK!!!!

  
  
I'm coulrophobic if you didn't know – that means I fear clowns!  
blueprint87@email.com  
  
Beware the grease-painted ones!


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